


The Proportionality of Wings

by Katherine24



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works
Genre: Brotp, Drunk Nesta Archeron, F/F, F/M, Girl's night, Illyrian, Wine, Wings, drunk, girl talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine24/pseuds/Katherine24
Summary: Based on a fic where Nesta was not made High Fae but Illyrian. You should read that one first, but probably will be fine without...Feyre gets drunk and can't help but grill her Illyrian sister about what wingspans mean for female illyrians! Just cute girl talk, they're all really drunk, it's fun!
Relationships: Feyre Archeron & Nesta Archeron
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The Proportionality of Wings

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [It Hurts to Become](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7908094) by [valamerys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valamerys/pseuds/valamerys). 



Nesta and Mor and Feyre have drunken a lot. There’s nothing unusual about that. They always seize the opportunity when Elain is busy to get together just the three of them and drink each other under the table. It’s not Elain’s fault she is a lightweight and blushes far too easily, but the girls can never let loose and talk in such honest, vulgar terms around her and they have plenty of nights when they swap the mind-numbing spirits for more palatable rosé and paint their nails with Elain. Tonight is not one of those nights, however. Feyre and Mor are stressed after dealing with the Court of Nightmares all week and just want to forget their worries.

Nesta has flown back from the Steppes to spend the evening with them. Amren is off goodness-knows-where, but she prefers a different sort of beverage anyway.

“Nesta.” Feyre almost whines the name, too drunk to regulate her tone. “What’s it like having wings?”

“You know what it’s like. You have them sometimes, remember?”

It’s unsurprising that alcohol affects each of them differently, given how different they are when sober. Nesta is a lethargic drunk, super relaxed and chilled out, a complete juxtaposition. Feyre on the other hand becomes increasingly less coherent with every sip.

“Nooooo. Like all the time.” She says the words as if it should have been obvious to Nesta the first time. Sober, Nesta would not have responded well to the condescension, but the alcohol has temporarily dulled the sharp edges of her temper.

“I don’t know.” She ponders. “What’s it like having arms all the time?”

Feyre frowns at that clearly displeased but the mundane nature of the answer. “But they’re sooooo heavy.”

A giggle from Mor and both the girls turn to look at her. It takes Mor a few attempts to compose herself, a new bout of giggles seizing her every time she starts to speak. Nesta and Feyre just look at her, waiting to be let in on the joke. “Esp...” another round of giggles, “espec… especially yours.”

Blank looks. Mor says emphatically, “because hers is big.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Nesta rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her drink. She knows that more alcohol won’t turn her into a giggling mess, but another sip can’t make that ‘joke’ any less funny.

Feyre, on the other hand, burst out laughing. Her and Mor are both gasping for breath with laughter and every time one of them seems to have mastered herself, they catch each other’s eyes and start afresh. “Wingspan, Nesta,” Feyre says, tears now starting to gather in her eyes

Nesta is about to remark that that still isn’t funny when she realises exactly what they’re implying.

Mor is not finished with the joke though and leans towards Feyre conspiratorially. “I heard they measured and Nesta’s are bigger than Cassian’s.”

Nesta hates being laughed at, it’s ok when it’s mutual, but this has gone on long enough, they are most definitely laughing _at_ her now. Feyre, as if knowing what this is doing to Nesta, but unable to stop herself gives Nesta a sideways glance before biting her lip and then turning to Mor anyway. “Two inches.” Both girls are lost to a new fit of giggles with a few wiggled eyebrows thrown in Nesta’s direction just to emphasise the point.

“For your information, wings are proportional for _girls_ too. Just to our breasts, not our p****s.” She somehow manages to maintain her composure and says it as if it were no more than part of a discussion at a book club. Conversations like this are why they take the opportunity to get drunk when Elain isn’t around. She would be extremely flustered by this kind of talk. Her tone seems to have captured their attention, at least they aren’t still laughing at her, but they are staring at her as if she’s about the reveal the secrets of the universe. When they don’t say anything, she sighs and continues, “its actually more useful than you’d think, it sort of… balances you.” She leans forward, putting a hand to the underside of her breasts as if to emphasise her point. The other girls have looks of awe and disbelief. “What? I know at least your back hurts Mor, you complain about it no end. The extra muscles help with that and the weight sort of evens it out a bit. The wings are still heavier so the muscles ache at the end of the day but I don’t know, I think it's better, you just sort of get used to it.” She’s rambling now, but they are still captivated by her every word. “The wings might be heavier, but at least I can fly with mine.” She says with renewed vigour, pointing unabashedly at their chests. This time, they do all laugh and before long, the conversation has moved on to something else.

The next morning, however, as Nesta enters the dining room, the light searing her eyes, she notices a hungover Feyre… with her wings out. Nesta flashes her a grin, flares her wings and winks at Feyre.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I actually managed a drabble, normally they end up as 2000 word one-shots. Please leave kudos and comments, honestly, it makes me feel appreciated. (Trying not to base my self-esteem on it, but that's where I am at right now, we're all on a journey)


End file.
